


A Reputation For Subtlety

by BBUBear



Category: Rooster Teeth Productions RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBUBear/pseuds/BBUBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're keeping it on the down low, this thing between them. Apparently Michael has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Reputation For Subtlety

**Author's Note:**

> This was written back in September, before the video podcasts and when PAX Australia was first announced.

“Hey, Gav.” Michael muttered, leaning back in his chair and in doing so, further away from his mic, to get Gavin’s attention. Gavin paid no attention to him. He was fully engrossed in watching Gus getting worked up, growing steadily redder as he went on, and was glad that, for once, the anger wasn’t directed at him.

Brandon had just been in to try and rationalise some stupid comment he had made earlier and had ended up digging himself even further into his hole. He'd eventually been thrown out of the room with both Jack and Gus yelling at him and Gavin himself in silent fits of laughter.  
Yeah. Sometimes it was nice not to be the one getting the shit for saying something stupid.

“Dude,” Michael muttered again, reaching out a hand to nudge at his shoulder, “Gavin.”

This time, Gavin had to stifle a grin. Michael’s voice was being picked up by the mic, despite having leant back in his chair, and now he was just ignoring him for the fun of it. He could tell that the quiet words were being picked up by the fact that Jack was shooting them both confused glances and mouthing _'the fuck?'_ at the two of them and there was no other way of him to have heard it other than through the headphones.

It wasn’t as if Michael or Gavin had ever had a problem getting into banter on the podcast, so the confusion as to why Michael was attempting subtlety wasn’t unwarranted. But Gavin shrugged it off, muttering a _'nothing. don’t worry'_ back at him and then shaking his head at Michael.  
The conversation eventually turned into PAX going to Australia next year and whether or not Rooster Teeth would be going to it, along with a stupid joke by Jack about how they were trying to copy RTOZ, which fell completely flat.

Gavin could still see Michael staring intently at him out the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t actively trying to get his attention now, so he left it be. Besides, what was a day in the Rooster Teeth offices without someone attempting to get Michael worked up?

It took longer than expected for him to give up the staring and Gavin was almost about to turn around to say that it was beginning to creep him out when Michael finally edged his chair forwards to sit flush together, bumping his knee against Gavin’s. He grinned to himself, bumping back and joining in on the conversation. Gus and Jack exchanged a look, partially exasperated and entirely long-suffering.

At the first scrape of fingers against the crotch of his jeans, Gavin jumped in his seat, knee colliding painfully with the table. The resounding thump and string of curses that came from Gavin caused Jack and Gus to glare at him and Michael to school his face to look far too innocent.  
“What the fuck is your problem, Gavin? Every fucking week I tell you to not bump the table because it moves the microphones and it means I have to try and edit it out-”

“You mean Lindsay has to edit out-” Jack interjects.

“Shut up. Lindsay has to edit it out and it fucks with my settings since it now thinks everything is going to be louder and it’s a pain in the ass to have to fix it every fucking time you do it. So I’m going to ask you one more time. Stop bumping the fucking desk or I’m going to punch you in the fucking face.” Gus ranted, slamming his own fist down onto the table to punctuate his anger.

Gavin decided that, for once, he would do the smart thing and not comment on how it was unfair that he got shouted at for it when Gus was allowed to do it all he wanted, “Yeah, sure. Sorry.” He laughed it off tightly, trying to get his breathing back in order. He was used to Michael copping a feel at random times during the day. Sometimes just for shits and giggles and sometimes as a replacement for saying “so I live across the road and you’re sitting here watching videos of cats, why aren’t I balls deep in you right now?”. But they were trying to keep this thing between them quiet apart from their friends, considering that neither of them were out to the public. So the podcast, where every little thing that happens in the hour and a half would be picked up and amplified, wasn’t exactly the most subtle place for this.  
(While Gavin evened his breath out and Gus calmed himself down, the conversation picked up between Jack and Michael.

“I think you should punch him in the face anyway. I’ve said it so many times, but where else would you want to punch him? I mean, look at him.”

“In the asshole,” Michael put on his fake British accent, “Right in the pooper.”)

Even as Gavin’s blunder became old news and the conversation slid back into something much less violence-towards-Gavin fuelled, Michael’s hand remained rested high on his thigh, fingers absently moving along the inseam of his jeans. Not entirely sure if he wanted to slip just slightly further down in his seat to cause the fingers to edge up or to knock them away entirely, he instead stayed quiet and still, hoping that his increased breathing wasn’t being picked up.

It had been picked up, although they didn’t notice it until Lindsay pulled them both upstairs in the middle of editing the podcast.

He had no idea how Michael was still carrying on a conversation while his hand was edging further and further up Gavin’s thigh. The guy wasn’t exactly known for keeping quiet about anything that he was doing.

It wasn’t until he heard his name that he snapped out of his revere, “What?” It came out much higher pitched than he had hoped for, voice cracking at the start. The pressure from Michael’s palm, which had suddenly pressed up, eased off slightly, although it stayed lightly resting over the bulge his cock was making, just as a reminder.

Enough was enough. Gavin gave up on trying to be subtle about what was going on under the table and pushed around to face Michael, glaring at him, “Jesus Christ, Michael! Not the time!” It wasn’t as if people could figure out what was going on just from that…right? He made a mental note anyway, not to sit next to Michael once they started the live podcasts.  
He, on the other hand, was giving Gavin the widest, most shit eating grin possible, “Jesus Christ, Michael!” He mocked, pulling his hand away to imitate Gavin’s angry flailing, “Suck it up, bitch.”

“What the hell is up with you two today?” Asked Jack, who was looking between the two of them with a look of bemusement. After a brief silence wherein neither one of them volunteered, it finally clicked, “Are you…no. Come on. Not during the podcast. Seriously? No. You’re both fucking stupid.”

Gavin let out a noise of outrage, slamming a fist down onto the table, “What? I wasn’t doing anything, why am I stupid? He had his hand on my-”

“Gavin, shut up.” Gus shouted, managing to stop Gavin from admitting that Michael had been this close to attempting to get him off. For a moment, he just stared at the two of them, a slight tick under his eye, “Seriously, calm the fuck down both of you. We’re probably going to have to cut most of this since you won’t stop fucking around.” He huffed, making a quick note of the time of recording on his paper.

Luckily, Gavin hadn’t put his drink down on it this time.


End file.
